


Ode to Patroclus

by AchillesPatroclus (deansamcas)



Category: The Iliad - Homer, The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 15:20:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3614763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deansamcas/pseuds/AchillesPatroclus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patroclus once revelled in silence. </p><p>Now, he can find no silence. It is as if when he met Achilles, someone pushed play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ode to Patroclus

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn't going to be an AU but then I remembered there weren't soundtracks or the ability to push play a thousand years ago. Again, very short, but I've had an idea for a proper AU which I will be starting soon.

Patroclus once revelled in silence. He let it settle over him like cloth, calming and weighted. His words belonged only to him, and he was free from the torment of the words of others. 

Now, he can find no silence. It is as if when he met Achilles, someone pushed play, and now he has a constant soundtrack playing on repeat and following him through the day.

When Patroclus wakes, he hears the soft huffs of air beside him, punctuated by snuffles and grunts as Achilles rolls over and buried himself further into Patroclus' side.

When Achilles wakes, there is his wide smile, that Patroclus swears is so alive and sincere that he can hear that, too. 

'Good morning, Patroclus.' Achilles says, the words rumbling out past his stretched lips. Even when coarse with sleep, Achilles' voice has a sing-song quality, each note made deliberate, each syllable rolled over his tongue before he speaks it. To Patroclus, it is a song for his ears alone. 

They eventually move to the kitchen. The stove sizzles and the kettle boils, their steaming drowned out by humming. Even as he navigates the kitchen, body moving in time with the tune he hums, Achilles is graceful. His limbs stretch and muscles ripple beneath the white of his shirt, eyes intently focused on his task. It is all Patroclus can do to sit and watch. He is often watching Achilles, something that has been pointed out to him.

'Why do you stare at me like that?' Achilles had asked once, months before. Patroclus' had averted his eyes and his cheeks had flushed, earning a fond grin from his boyfriend. 

'As if you don't know.' Patroclus mumbled, embarrassed. 

Achilles chuckled, moving behind to wrap his arms around Patroclus' waist. 

'I like it when you do it.' Achilles whispered lowly into his ear. 'It makes me feel like the only man in the whole world.' 

Patroclus cleared his throat. 

'You are.' He replied honestly. 'In my world.' 

Achilles had looked at him with just indescribable emotion and kissed him so fiercely that Patroclus never minded staring at him again.

He does so now as Achilles sets down a plate before him with a flourish. 

'Thank you.' He hears himself say.

'Anything for you, my love.' Achilles replies dramatically, and laughs. Patroclus savours the way it chimes, ringing like bells through the air. He would put that track on repeat, if he could. 

They eat over a quiet conversation, and Patroclus rises to clear the plates. Ten minutes later, lips press to his incessantly. 

'I have to go.' Patroclus mumbles against Achilles' mouth. 'And so do you.'

Achilles pulls away with a petulant sigh, and Patroclus can't help but snigger. As he leaves their house through the front door, Achilles blows him a kiss. The sound of smacking lips follows him to the car and echoes through his mind all the way to work. 

Suddenly, he finds silence. Alone in his office, the soundtrack on pause. Patroclus finds he does not like it quite so much anymore. He counts the hours, the minutes before he can return home where Achilles is waiting. 

And he is waiting, as always. He greets him with a soft kiss, and hands gripping tightly on hips. The world is awash in sound. Heavy breaths. Feet on the floor. The chime of laughter. 

Routine follows as they eat dinner, low together on the couch and get ready for bed. 

Sound is amplified in darkness. 

Patroclus can hear all. Every desperate moan and whimper, each grunt and gasp for air. The slap of skin and the creak of their bed. They are the rhythm and Achilles is the melody. Patroclus revels in each sound made only for his ears. This is one song no one else will ever hear. 

Ode to Patroclus, he decides after they fall apart, panting heavily. He listens as Achilles breathing slows. 

'I love you.' Patroclus whispers into the darkness. A slightly sticky hand finds his and holds it tightly. 

Achilles mumbles something incoherently in reply. Patroclus understands. He always does.


End file.
